Love Sick
by DragonsBen
Summary: "Those people are sick" Steve learns he is sick with something new when he is 10. He spends every day after trying not to pass it onto Bucky. Project Rebirth gives him a chance at a cure, but it takes Steve 70 years to learn this wasn't something to be cured. But by then, Bucky is long gone and maybe Steve is too.
1. I Can Offer You A Chance

"Those people are sick"

Steve first hears this when he is 10 years old and for years to come this brings him both elation and dread.

It's a woman he doesn't even know, middle aged with faded blonde hair and her dress says she's fairly well off, gloved fingers holding a cigarette. Her eyes -faded brown, he remembers- are looking towards two men who are outside a small café, simply talking and laughing.

Steve's confused for a heartbeat as he follows her gaze, then sees the men have their hands intertwined.  
He's still confused, truth be told, doesn't understand what's wrong with the picture, but the woman isn't done talking yet.

She's got a friend, a shorter, more plump girl with light skin and dark hair curled into a bob, also nursing a cigarette. "For a man to love another man like that" The blonde woman continues after a drag from her cig "it's unnatural"  
"Disturbing" Her dark haired friend agrees though she shakes her head sadly.

Steve pulls his gaze away from the two men, bright blue eyes trained up at the conversation he's eavesdropping on.  
His mother would probably scold him for that if she knew what he was doing while he waited for her outside the bakery, but it's not as if the women are talking in hushed voices.

"I don't understand how sick in the head someone must be to want a relationship like that" The dark haired woman says then she takes a drag of her cigarette and blows it out in a plume that could be mistaken for her breath in the chilly autumn air. Their voices aren't angry, Steve thinks, pulling his coat tighter around him. They sound sad. Pitying, like the way the doctor sounds when he tells Steve's mom he may never outgrow his asthma. Oh. _Oh._

Steve is sick. Now, that's not news, but the women in the fancy coats have all but diagnosed him. The connection seems to make everything make sense then, and Steve understands.

This is why he likes Bucky so much.

He adores Bucky wants to be around him as much as he can, Steve doesn't think there's anything wrong with that, that's what it means to be best friends after all because he knows Bucky feels the same. But there's some things Steve can't explain. Like why his heart flutters around his best friend in a way that almost makes him concerned for his weak heart. Like the way he blushes when his mom asks if there's a girl Steve likes but all the can think about is Bucky.

They hold hands, sure, Bucky having to drag Steve away from a disagreement with someone twice his size, but he doesn't let go afterwards and they hold hands as Steve tells him what started the fight _this_ time. Steve's cheeks always warm up when Bucky rubs his thumb across his bruised knuckles- curse his Irish blood. Bucky always thinks it's the start of a fever and, until now, so did Steve.

But it's not as simple as a fever, this is a new sickness and Steve almost wants to cry. Another illness to add to his already long list.  
Something else to worry about.  
He wonders how he'll tell his mom.

He's pulled from his thoughts when the women tisk as the two men (homosexuals, Steve won't learn the word until he's 11) part ways after a hug that lingers a bit too long to just be friendly.  
The women share a look, something crossed between disgust and misery, then they stamp out their cigarette's beneath their heels and carry on with their day.

They pass by Steve, completely unaware of the epiphany they've dropped upon his already feeble shoulders. He tucks himself even smaller on the bench he's waiting on.  
Is it contagious? That's always what Steve worries about at the first sign of another bought of illness. Sometimes it's familiar, sometimes it's something new, but until he knows which it is his first concern is never for himself.

Will he get others sick? Will he get Bucky sick? And ironically, Steve feels sick to his stomach at the thought that maybe he's already gotten Bucky sick. Maybe that's why Bucky always sits so close to him, always stares at him when he thinks Steve won't notice.

Steve decides not to tell his mom. As far as he knows, this won't kill him and he knows if anything it's his heart that'll get him. No point making her worry about it. Just then, his mom comes out of the bakery a small bag in tow, and Steve gives her the fakest and yet most genuine smile he's given her in months.

The very next day Steve gets in a fight with a guy who wouldn't stop pulling a girl's skirt up. When Bucky comes, Steve won't let him hold his hand. When Bucky looks confused and a little lost, Steve tells him they can't hold hands anymore. Bucky blinks for a few seconds in surprise, and Steve hates himself for the hurt he sees there too, and he has to bite back his own sorrow. Steve's sick, but he won't get Bucky sick too.

* * *

Steve is 14 when Bucky has his first kiss.

Funny enough, it's apparently as monumental for Steve as it is for Bucky.

He comes over to Steve's place after the school dance- Steve didn't go, faked having a cough so Bucky wouldn't feel obligated to hang around him- he's still in his dress shirt and tie and Steve has to look away to stop himself from thinking how good he looks in that shade of blue. Barely into his teenage years and Bucky is already a looker with dark hair, a wide jawline and a dimple in his chin just to name a few of his assets.

Steve feels left behind and like he's holding Bucky back all in one fell swoop.

When Bucky undoes his tie, Steve hides his nose in the book he's totally not reading at this point but stubbornly pretends to be _very_ interested in. Bucky unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt as he spills all the details and Steve is borderline grateful for the flush that rises to his cheeks because if Bucky wasn't convinced Steve was sick before, the rosy cheeks would do it.

Steve isn't sick, well not _that_ kind of sick (at least not right now), but the hour Bucky spends recapping his evening is sixty minutes for Steve's new symptoms to rise and heart flutters when Bucky plops on the bed next to him, cheeks go from pink to red when he playfully leans in to steal the books from under Steve's nose _("Pay attention, Stevie!"),_ feels weak in the knees when Bucky talks about how soft her lips were.

A new symptom appears, to Steve's surprise, it feels a lot like jealousy.

Bucky keeps saying how cute she was _("don't worry Steve" Bucky jokes "you're cuter")_ and how he loved how she smelled, loved how she looked in that dress, loved how her lipstick was so pink, _loved loved loved_. And Steve _hates_ himself for the bitterness that swells in his chest feeling as deadly as a lung-full of pneumonia.

He wants to be happy for Bucky. That's how a good friend would feel, right? A good friend would be excited and quick to tease and maybe more than a little jealous that their best friend got to kiss a girl. Steve is jealous that the _girl_ got to kiss _Bucky_.

That thought has unexpected tears springing to his eyes and he forces himself into an all too familiar coughing fit to give the tears a reason to be there.

Bucky instantly looks concerned, the cocky smirk falling right off his stupidly handsome face and Steve doesn't have to fake how choked up he becomes. Bucky's got that look in his eyes and softness in his voice that reassures Steve that Bucky cares about him as much as Steve cares about Bucky. But there's more than platonic love in Steve's heart and he feels so guilty to tarnish their friendship because he's sick. Bucky is so _good_ and Steve is tainting him.

He thought he was getting over…over whatever _this_ is, but this new event in Bucky's life has a profound effect on Steve's own because he's _not_ getting better. He's getting worse. Steve hates being sick. He **hates** it.

Steve lets himself cry for just a few quick minutes after Bucky leaves. He cries in confusion, in fear, in jealousy, in sorrow, and a hundred other emotions he can't put a name to.

" _I'm happy for you, Buck. Really!"_

* * *

Steve is 18 when his mother died. He's 18 when Bucky offers to move in with him.

He won't look at Bucky when he follows Steve back from the funeral. Steve knows he's there, Bucky knows Steve knows, but doesn't say anything for the longest time. He doesn't have to.

He'd been ready for his mom to die.  
Well, not _ready_ , maybe 'prepared' was a better word. Okay, maybe even prepared wasn't right, no one is prepared to lose their mom. He was expecting it, let's go with that. It hadn't been sudden; tuberculosis wasn't something that killed overnight. It was slow. Steve wonders if it would've been better for it to have been quick.

She suffered and he's sorry for that, but she got closure she wouldn't have if she'd gone without warning. So Steve sucked it up, took care of her, let her deal in her own way.

She went overnight but it was awhile before Steve could actually do anything about it. Hard to make a phone call when you're sobbing your heart out.

"We looked for you after" Bucky almost scares Steve when he speaks up "My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery" Bucky was the only one who had actually caught up to Steve and he doesn't fool himself into thinking it's a coincidence.

"I know" Steve says, his voice quiet and apologetic. He hadn't meant to blow anyone off, certainly not Bucky's family. He loved them like his own. "I'm sorry" He adds, because he is, for so many things "I just…kinda wanted to be alone" He's mumbling but Bucky is used to that and hears him loud as day.

"How was it?" Bucky asks, voice soft as a wave and Steve can feel the calm washing over him as if it really were one. God, he's so lucky to have Bucky. He isn't sure what part of him is thinking this, the sickness or his genuine appreciation. He feels a spike of frustration.

"It was okay" Steve replies shortly "She's next to dad" He's afraid if he says too much at once it'll pull an emotional reaction from him and he's fighting so hard to stay strong, emotionally neutral. He still won't look at Bucky because that's half the battle lost if he does. He keeps his eyes on the stairs in front of him, feeling each step Bucky takes behind him beneath the thin soles of his own shoes.

Bucky is about to say something but a man (grey suit and brown hat, Steve's stupidly over-observant mind informs him) steps from one of the apartments and whatever Bucky is about to say is put on hold until they pass him, apparently not for outside ears. What Bucky was about to say, he never says. Steve will never not think it was important. Instead, Bucky says "I was gonna ask-"

"I know what you're gonna say, Buck" Steve interrupts though not unkindly. "It's just…" Just what? Steve feels a jab of anger prick through his emotional walls. Hates that he can't look at Bucky, hates that no excuse will ever justify the real reason Steve can't handle being around Bucky in a domestic environment.

Steve knows the feeling of being head-over-heels, literally and figuratively, and he won't be able to function feeling it 24/7 should Bucky move in. Steve bites his lip, and searches for his keys to distract himself.

"We can put the couch cushions on the floors like when we were kids" Bucky's tone is joking but his intent is serious. Steve pauses his searching abruptly. He's jolted back to exactly what Bucky is referencing but from a very different perspective; Steve situated on the couch while Bucky takes the floor. Steve pretends he's asleep until Bucky nods off then pokes his nose childishly over the end of the sofa peeking down at his best friend like a school girl with a crush.

And damn him if that isn't exactly what it was.  
 _Is?_

"It'll be fun" Bucky insists, his tone that ever humorous drawl that girls die for. God, so does Steve. He busies his hands in his pockets again, anything to take his mind off… _this._ "All you gotta do is shine my shoes" Bucky keeps at it, a dog with a bone "Maybe… take out the trash..." he fades off.

There's a scrape of rock against rock and the clattering of a key hitting cement. Steve turns finally, watches Bucky bend to retrieve his prize and Steve's observant blue eyes trace Bucky's back arching as he stands back up.

He quickly darts his eyes guiltily to the key Bucky hands out to him like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

Steve takes the key, damn near snatches it for fear of lingering too long (can almost hear the tsking of the women from 8 years ago ringing in his guilty conscience). Steve keeps his eyes down, purses his lips, hesitates. He replays the last few seconds, how his gaze had focused too long on the way Bucky's knees bent, the way his shoulders turned. _Those people are sick._ Steve nods to himself, a minuscule movement making a monumental decision.

"Thank you, Buck" Steve realizes his gaze is still at his feet and feels like a coward for not looking at Bucky. He pulls his gaze up, forces his features to remain expressionless though his sharp blue eyes show a seriousness far more telling than just denying a roommate. His gaze flicks down Bucky's face for an instant, sees the openness and honesty there and feels another throb of guilt for not being able to return the gesture. It's for the best. "But I can get by on my own"

"The thing is…" Bucky drops his own gaze to Steve's surprise and his features pinch. And for all of two seconds Steve sees the same symptoms he's been experiencing but on _Bucky's_ face. There's this awful, _awful_ feeling of hope in Steve's small chest like the ache of pressing on a bruise. He watches as Bucky seems to struggle for words because maybe Bucky is sick too and it's terrible for Steve to hope for that but his mind is still 8 years in the past, remembering the pure love on the men's faces as one rubbed his thumb over the other's knuckles. Steve curses his observation skills for the umpteenth time in five minutes. A breeze rushes by, ruffling the clothes hanging to dry in the alleyway over Bucky's shoulder and finally, Bucky meets his gaze again. "You don't have to"

Warm.

Steve feels so warm it's like the sun's suddenly come out, the first glimmer of life since his mother's own was taken seems to hit Steve like a punch.

And Steve would know.

Bucky's gaze flicks down to Steve's mouth and it takes all of Steve's willpower not to blush. They make eye contact again which lingers just a second too long to be friendly.

And Steve would know.

Bucky reaches out, grasps Steve thin shoulder in a firm but gentle grip and Steve feels his heart flutter and with that, Steve's world comes crashing down. The sudden symptom reminds him of how sick he is. How sick Bucky will get being around him every day and night. He doesn't want to turn Bucky into… _that_. Doesn't want people to think that Bucky is... _that._

 _That_ gets people killed, knifed in alleys, shot in the street. Steve won't let that happen to Bucky, not ever. He drops his gaze.

"I'm with you 'till the end of the line, pal"

Steve's heard Bucky tell girls for years how much he loves their eyes, their hair, their smile, but Steve's never _heard_ the love like this before.  
They're very different, he realizes. Bucky realizes it too.

Steve turns his head, tries to hide how his breath catches in his throat and shutters as it leaves. He's so lucky and he's so damn _sorry._

Bucky is offering him the world, offering him whatever Steve saw 8 years ago but Steve knows his decision already, made it a minute ago and solidified it in the sixty seconds since. But he lets himself look up, let's himself gaze at Bucky as if Bucky himself had hung the stars in the sky. Steve's eyes shine with tears.

He's so _sorry_ and he's not even sure who to.

When Steve retreats into his apartment, soft denial still hanging at his doorstep, he knows Bucky stays standing for a few minutes looking completely lost in a horribly familiar way _("Why can't we hold hands anymore, Stevie?")_. Bucky knows that Steve knows he waits. Neither of them mention it.

* * *

Bucky doesn't have to tell Steve he's been accepted into the military. Steve can see it in his eyes. Steve keeps up his attempts to enlist but with a new energy that he refuses to call desperation.

He tries with everything in him to follow Bucky but there's so _much_ inside of Steve and so damn _little_ on the outside and he needs to do _something_ about it or it's going to _kill him._ It's heartbreaking.

Steve knows how selfish it is of him to enlist primarily to stay by Bucky's side. Of course he wants to fight because that's the right thing to do, it always has been, but it's far more personal now. Steve sometimes thinks he should just fake a cough and fake out so Bucky won't be stuck hanging around him during a freaking _war_.

But he keeps trying.

When Bucky leaves, he take's Steve's heart with him. Steve starts jerking awake in the night hearing the same voice. _"Those people are sick"_ But Steve keeps trying. And keeps trying. And keeps trying.

"I can offer you a chance"

 _Those people are sick._

"Only a chance"

* * *

 **AN: This only my second fanfiction ever!  
My first one I wrote nearly 3 years ago, so please don't judge me too harshly!**


	2. Cured & Cursed

**AN: This isn't a one or a two-shot fanfic! There will be around 5 chapters or so, depending on how long it takes to get to the ending I have in mind.**  
 **I'll say when the last chapter is but until then, assume there are others coming!  
In case this wasn't obvious, it's a Stucky fic (with Steggy undertones) and it will go into CACW but I'll put a warning at the top of any chapters with Civil War spoilers!**

* * *

When Steve first sees Peggy Carter he's immediately interested. Not necessarily attracted to her (though to saw she was anything _but_ jaw-dropping was a lie), however it's hard to miss a girl who introduces herself by socking a private in the jaw.

Call him crazy, Steve's curious.  
Fascinated.  
Hopeful.  
Hopes this grows into something that might save him from… _this_.

Even if Steve is miraculously cured of whatever infection polluted his friendship with Bucky, he's not stepping a foot off a military base until him and Bucky are side by side again.

 _"_ _I'm with you till the end of the line, pal"  
"Those people are sick"_

The training is hard; Steve knew it would be. His lungs burn, his head pounds, his legs shake and his arms sting and all the while his heart bleeds. Steve knows what'll kill him in the end isn't any of the physical aches. Maybe the horrible longing in his chest won't necessarily end his life, but there's more ways to die than being killed.

If Steve ever dares leave the war without Bucky, he knows he isn't Steve anymore and that the war killed him.

When Steve pulls the pin from the flagpole, he feels this little part of him hope Agent Carter is watching him beat brawn with brains.

The thud of the pole hitting the wet ground rings clear as a bell as every bystander has gone dead silent and for a moment Steve thinks he's done something wrong. Maybe there was a rulebook handed out that he missed that said on the front, in giant font, "DO NOT KNOCK OVER ANY FLAGPOLES" and here he is doing just that.

It would be just his luck.

But as he retrieves the flag, he peeks up from under his sweaty blond bangs to see the tight-lipped smile on Agent Carter's face. A smirk that clearly says she shouldn't be feeling so pleased about the situation but is feeling just that. Steve feels damn proud right then, strolls past the rest of his platoon with his chin held high and gaze held forward and climbs in the back of the jeep because he knows he's just earned the right.

Agent Carter is still smiling, red lips turned up at the corners ever so slightly but when he happens to meet her gaze- eyes brown like the darkest leaves of autumn- Steve feels a rush of anxiety, excitement and yearning.

He's felt this with Bucky but this time there's no guilt or fear. Steve latches onto that like his life depends on it.

* * *

Dr. Erskine looks at Steve in a way Steve can't explain, like he can see right through him and into all his inner workings. Maybe that's why he became a doctor in the first place, Steve ponders.

They talk, a little at first then after Steve's chosen for Project Rebirth they meet every other night or so just to chat. Steve tells Erskine about his best friend Bucky, it was inevitable, the guy is the most important thing in Steve's life.

The doctor's piercing grey eyes seem to light up as Steve talks about Bucky in a way that makes Steve feel horribly exposed but there's nothing but kindness and understanding on Erskine's aging face. Bucky becomes a common topic of conversation.

Each time the German doctor asks a question about Bucky Steve feels a load off his shoulders as he answers. There's been so much he's been holding inside of him that Steve doesn't even realize the pressure that's built up like a valve ready burst any moment. Just having someone to talk to about his best friend without fear of damnation makes Steve feel a little less that he's going to explode at any second.

It helps clear his head. Dr. Erskine doesn't mind, not one bit.  
In fact, he encourages Steve with questions about the man the doctor has never met but feels like he knows inside and out just by Steve's fond rambling.

 _"Whatever happens tomorrow you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man"_

* * *

"I got beat up in that ally" He sounds like a tour guide. He wishes he'd shut up.  
"….and that parking lot" God Steve just be quiet.  
"….and behind that diner" His voice fades off, tone much less giddy than when he'd first begun the list.

He steals a quick glance under his bangs and sees Agent Carter's bewildered and more than a little annoyed expression.

"Did you have something against running away?" She asks curtly, tone clipped and formal but the question is pure curiosity. She keeps her brown eyes forward, as if she's not really engaging in such a silly conversation if she doesn't actually look at him. Steve can't help but think she sounds a bit like Bucky, pulling Steve back to his feet after getting his ass handed to him. He misses Bucky, misses their banter and playful teasing. He stops the thought before it can progress.

Steve heaves a sigh while shaking his head and tries to get his words together to try and not sound like a shy, tongue-tied idiot.

"If you start runnin' they'll never let you stop" He explains, looking at the back of the car seat feeling all of two feet tall next to this strong, confident, uniformed woman who somehow breaks down a guy's masculinity just by being in proximity to them. It's the first time he's really had direct contact with her and he's floored by how nervous he feels. He looks out the window, trying to keep his tone flat and tries to sound like anything but what he's feeling.

"You stand up, push back. Can't say no forever, right?" He instantly wishes he hadn't made it into a question, doesn't want to goad her into a conversation she's not interested in. He drops his gaze to his lap. _Idiot_.

"I know a little of what that's like" Steve's head pops up, surprised her tone isn't dismissive or downright irritated. Hell, he's surprised she answered him at all. "To have every door shut in your face" She elaborates, sparing him a meaningful glance. Then her gaze is trained forwards again, professionalism fully in place throughout while Steve fiddles with the front of his shirt like a nervous teenager or something equally undignified.

"I guess I just don't know why you'd want to join the army-" His eyes are in his lap again, his attention jumping around the car nervously "-if you were a beautiful dame" Steve's throat tightens as if he could somehow pull the words back into his stupid mouth and back into his stupid brain. _Dame!?_ Really, Steve?

"Or a beau- a woman" He stammers out, adding salt to the wound if anything "An Agent" Ass-kisser, Steve thinks to himself. The Agent in question turns to him, eyes sharp and lips tight in clear annoyance. Oh geeze. _Oh geeze_. "Not…a dame. You are beautiful- but…" Steve practically squeaks out the last bit, his hands up in the air with meaningless gestures trying to get his point across and failing quite spectacularly.

He's going to be killed right here in the backseat of this cab and Agent Carter is gonna be the one to do it and you know what? Steve can't wait.  
Just wants to be put out of his misery.

"You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" Carter says. Her tone is sharp but just so slightly amused that Steve thinks he may have hallucinated it to bring himself comfort in his final moments on earth before she vaporizes him under her fiery stare.

Steve smiles, rasps a laugh to maybe buy himself some pity points from the military officer but won't dare look at her.

Like a gazelle trying to avoid the scrutiny of a ticked off lion.

"Think this is the longest conversation I've had with one" He confirms rather pitifully. Carter purses her lips like she's trying not to smile spryly and looks ahead again. "Women aren't exactly linin' up to dance with a guy they might step on" The admission is surprising to Agent Carter; Steve can feel it in the way she shifts in her seat. Steve figures most guys aren't quick to admit their faults and maybe that's what throws her off but he did just give her a map of places he's been beat up in the last three blocks so really, what's he got to lose?

Besides, honesty is a virtue and Steve firmly believes that. He's always honest. With other people at least.  
But honest with himself…?

"You must have danced" Carter's voice is suddenly soft, English accent rolling off her tongue smooth as honey. She's looking at him again, brown eyes having dropped that guarded, professional edge and softened into something genuine. Steve knows that for at least a few seconds he isn't talking to Agent Carter, but Peggy Carter. There's a difference.

"Well," he starts ruefully, head still down and eyes in his lap "asking a woman to dance always seemed so terrifying. And the past few years-" since Bucky mentioned he planned to enlist. Steve hesitates, his train of thought derailed. He rolls his shoulders, trying to shake the thought off and continue "it just didn't seem to matter that much. Figured I'd wait"

"For what?"

Steve isn't sure how to answer for a second. He knows exactly what he's waiting for, what he wants, his find fuzzing over for a moment in a kaleidoscope of dark hair, a cocky smirk, sharp jaw. He pushes the images back like a fever dream.

"The right partner" He decides to say.

He's never honest with himself.

* * *

He's relieved that Dr. Erskine is there. Of course he is, it _is_ his project after all, but Steve is fond of him and knows the doctor is just as fond of Steve.

Even if him and Agent Carter formed some kind of bond on the ride here, Steve's not quite sure if she's in his corner yet, so he feels relief to know there's someone present who doesn't just see him as an experiment.

Aside from Erskine, Steve also recognizes Howard Stark. Being so close to the legend himself is enough to make Steve's head spin a bit but last time Steve saw the man was from a crowd, some forty feet away from him. He's handsome up close, dark hair neat, mustache immaculately trimmed, and deep brown eyes that make Steve tingle when Howard turns to look at his subject. The genius looks Steve up and down just once then turns back to what looks like an extremely high tech switchboard. Steve can't wait to tell Bucky about this.

As he passes Howard Stark, Steve sees the machine he knows he's going to be put into and thinks it looks like some kind of foreign torpedo. It's not a comforting thought but he also sees the answer to all his problems in the silver contraption.

Erskine was very elaborate when he explained what the procedure was going to do to him. There was a lot of big words and though Steve is exceptionally smart, he's no scientist. What he did understand from the long-winded explanation was his lengthy list of ailments were going to be cured in a day.

No more asthma, no more scoliosis, no more stomach ulcers, no more arrhythmia, no more... symptoms around Bucky. He could just be Bucky's friend without all the worrying and fear. He could be normal, healthy he could actually _help_ people instead of making the problem worse.

Steve is excited.

He trusts Dr. Erskine and has total faith that this is the answer he's been looking for. The cure to everything.  
He trusts Howard Stark, having heard many tales about him from Bucky. Only Steve knows what a huge science nerd Bucky Barnes really is.  
He trusts them.

 _"Today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace"_

Of course Steve is also nervous. The assistants are all wearing white, a bit too much like a hospital if you ask Steve. They lower two panels onto Steve's thin chest and he hopes they can't feel how hard his heart is racing.

 _"We begin the series of micro-injections into the subject's major muscles"_

Erskine had walked Steve through the process many times before, so Steve almost tunes the doctor out as he narrates the procedure for the spectators looming above them. He watches from the corner of his eye as a large holder full of vials is rolled closer to the platform Steve is lying on. As the holder is opened, he sees the shimmering blue of the serum before they are wheeled just out of his field of vision. He stares at the roof, brow furrowed.

 _"The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change"_

A nurse brings over the blue vials and inserts them into chambers along the length of Steve's legs. He feels the familiar cold dab of alcohol sterilizing his upper left arm and Steve watches, detached, as the nurse throws away the cotton. When she presses her thumb into the thin layer of muscle there, Steve quickly looks away, can hear his mother's advice from _years_ ago _("just don't look, sweetheart. Think about something else")_

Steve thinks about Bucky without guilt. He's going to be cured in a few minutes, so where's the harm in it?

He feels the poke and childishly bring up the memory of Bucky pinching him every year on St. Patrick's Day for not wearing green. _("C'mon, Steve. You're Irish, you've got no excuse!")_

Steve breathes out as the nurse slowly dispenses the serum into his bicep, eyes squeezed shut and lips forming an 'o' of concentration. Bucky always says it's his pouting face of thought. Steve tries not to turn red at the memory.

He's aware Dr. Erskine is at his side when the nurse pulls the needle from his arm, dabbing swiftly with a cotton swab to clean up the bead of blood.

"That wasn't so bad" Steve states, a little surprised and doubly relieved. It hadn't been enjoyable, but not nearly as bad as he'd prepped himself for.

"That was penicillin" Erskine says. Steve looks at him sharply. Erskine doesn't look one bit apologetic, in fact he rolls his eyes at Steve's bewilderment. He sighs and turns his attention elsewhere though he doesn't stray from Steve's side and for that, Steve is thankful.

 _"Serum infusion, beginning in 5...4..."_

Steve cuts his eyes up to the observation room above the lab. He can see Agent Carter, her red lipstick alarmingly vivid against the neutral military colours around her. He can see Colonel Phillips next to her and Steve is both shocked and unnerved that the strict officer looks...nervous?

Steve is to used to seeing disapproval or, even worse, disappointment on his features concerning Steve. He had believed the colonel was half hoping Steve blew up in the procedure just to get him out of the man's thinning hair. Bucky always said Steve had a way of worming his way into people's hearts. Steve had never believed him.

 _"...3...2..."_

Steve is startled from his musings as the edge of the needles rests against his arms, not yet breaking the surface of his skin but enough that Steve's stomach drops and he has to focus on not flinching away from them. His breathing speeds up, small chest rising and falling heavily and the observant doctor notices.

Erskine rests a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder despite the many eyes on them and Steve can't express his gratitude at the gesture.

 _"...1..."_

 _Click_.

A switch is thrown, the needles press into Steve's arms and the blue liquid is pushing through and it stings for an instant and then it _aches_. Steve grits his teeth, tendons in his neck wring tight and despite his best efforts a high noise of distress rises in his throat. No one in the room judges him for it.

The adrenaline rush hits Steve hard, he knows instantly it's unnatural. The speeding of his heart and tensing of his muscles isn't coming from his own body, the serum is already having an effect on Steve just seconds after entering him. His eyes pop open, pupils shrinking to mere pinpricks in his striking blue eyes.

Erskine's hand disappears from his shoulder, but Steve hardly notices. Both him and the doctor are focusing on different things at the moment.

 _"Now, Mr. Stark."_

The platform Steve is laying on rises, Steve going rigid at the low whir of hydraulics lifting him to rest vertical and he gets the sort of feeling as if he's on a roller-coaster slowly rising skywards before the sudden plummet.

 _("You can't go to Coney Island and **not** ride the Cyclone, Steve!. It'll be fun. Relax, I'll hold your hand if you get scared- what's with that look?")  
_ Steve is confused that the memory, above all else, makes him feel calm.

The metal panels around Steve begin to draw closed like a cocoon. He takes in a deep breath and tries to let the tension drain from his body as the upper part of the capsule comes down over his head. There's a click as the pieces all come together and Steve really does try not to be annoyed that the glass meant to fit over his face is a few inches above his head.

 _Knock knock knock._  
 _"Steven? Can you hear me?"_

"It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?"  
If he were here, Bucky would've laughed.

 _"We will proceed"_ The mirthful grin falls from Steve's face, the seriousness making him a little claustrophobic. There's a few seconds of silence, the heavy metal around Steve doing a good job at silencing the outside world. Steve's not sure if he wants to know what's going on or if ignorance is bliss.

There's a low hum and the capsule grows warmer. And _brighter_.

 _"That's 10%"_

Steve can just barely hear Howard over the humming, his eyes are firmly shut, he sees red even behind his closed eyelids because it's just so bright.

At 50% he starts to sweat.  
At 60% he starts to burn.  
At 70% he starts to scream.

He can hear the mayhem outside the capsule but it's mixed with his screams and his agony and his fear and the humming that's grown into a roar and he's on fire, he has to be. He's being cooked from the inside out it burns and he feels as if his skin is being peeled and someone is banging on his capsule and he tries to answer but he can't form words but he tries and he tries and he tried he tried he tried.

 _"Kill the reactor, Mr. Stark! Kill it! Kill the-"  
 **"No"**_

The sound bursts from Steve, shocking him and everyone else present. It takes all his will to follow up the denial but he's being skinned alive and it's so hard to form a rational thought let alone say it.

 _"Don't. I can do this"  
_ He's always honest.

The last 30% pass by faster than the first 70% but Steve can't tell if it's because he's fading in and out or because Howard is being a little reckless with mercy. Steve bites right through his lip keeping his agony from vocalizing, fearing if he makes any more noise Erskine will call the whole thing off.

Steve doesn't think he could handle that.

Fireworks?

Popping, cracking, sizzling like the 4th of July and Steve's head buzzes with the sound like a wasp's nest.  
 _(When Steve was 6, Bucky told Steve the fireworks on Independence Day were just for him and for that night alone, Steve believed him)_

The red behind his eyelids cuts to black and for just an instant Steve wonders if he's dead. It wouldn't surprise him, his body was already a ticking time bomb and to drop that much trauma on it at once?

But the spitting of sparks doesn't stop, the roaring he'd almost forgotten about dies down until there's an eerie silence. The burning is gone, leaving Steve cold and his lip bubbling blood on his tongue.

 _"Mr. Stark"_

Steve jolts like he's been electrocuted suddenly remembering where he is, who he is, what's just happened and if he had the energy he might be anxious. But he's exhausted. He barely notices when there's light leaking into his dark little world but his eyes are half open which he doesn't even realize so when the artificial light falls on his sweaty face he squints and everything feels real again.

 _"Steven?"_

He's pulled gently from his confines and Steve doesn't answer because he doesn't taste blood anymore. His lip, after just seconds of being nearly ripped in half, has healed. Steve can't believe it. He's healed. Already? Then everything else? He's cured. He feels lightheaded nearly falls out of the capsule before two pairs of arms grab him. Grab under him, because he's taller than then both.

 _"We did it"_  
 _"I think we did it"_  
 _"You actually did it"_

Steve is still a bit too shell-shocked to respond to either Howard or Erskine so he just stands there, gasping in fresh air without once feeling his lungs cramp or his throat seize. He's cured? He can't believe it. It doesn't feel real but he can feel the hands against his stomach holding him up, can feel himself holding onto the two men's shoulders. His legs are a bit wobbly like a newborn foal but he's growing steadier every second and he can _feel_ himself adjusting and healing and it's _real_.

Someone is standing in front of him, he keeps his spinning head down but can see the military uniform of whoever it is. He focuses all his energy into standing on his own two feet when Howard and Erskine step away from him (though they keep their arms out should he stumble).

 _"How do you feel?"_

It's Agent Carter. No, it's Peggy. Steve knows the difference and he can hear it so much clearer than before. Without his partial deafness the world seems so raw and...loud. And Steve's not sure how he feels. Cured? Healthy? Not sick?

 _"Taller"  
"You look taller"_

 _ **BOOM**_

Steve isn't sure what's happened, everything is still so loud and there's new colours he couldn't see until now and his body is so big and clumsy he nearly falls trying to shield Peggy from the sudden rain of glass. There's glass? Oh, there's glass.

His body, for the first time, is capable of responding before his mind and it leaves Steve reeling. He stumbles trying to remain upright, long arms bumping into people he would've had distance between ten minutes ago. He's struggling to adjust, to pull himself upright.

 _"Stop him!"_

An order rings out and Steve instinctively responds but in the sea of panicking doctors and nurses, there's nothing Steve can do to stop the two shots that ring out. Steve steps over the bystanders as fast as he can because he already knows who's been shot and for just a moment, he isn't Private Rogers or the Project Rebirth Success or any other title he may have been dubbed because right now, he's just Steve.

Just Steve, hovering over the bleeding body of Dr. Erskine.

The doctors mouth open and closes, neither of them saying anything, both looking terrified before a haunting clarity washes over Erskine's face. A shaking hand reaches up and pokes at Steve's heart.

There's a look in Erskine's eyes that tells Steve he isn't reminding the young soldier of something he's said before, but something he's trying to say now. Erskine's eyes close, resignation on his kind face, and Steve won't understand what the doctor was trying to tell him for another 70 years or so.


End file.
